


Lucille, Give Me Strength!

by lucilleshusband



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: (negan's kind of proposal anyway), BAMF Reader, F/M, Impressed Negan, Marriage Proposal, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Supply Runs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucilleshusband/pseuds/lucilleshusband
Summary: There’s a huge walker pinning Simon to the ground, and it looks like he’s working hard to drive his thumbs through its eye sockets. Negan is off to the left, cursing up a storm as three walkers work together to back him up against a tree. He’s got his knife in hand, but in the time it’ll take him to kill one, the other two will be on him.Shit.You look at his prized bat again, and think, ridiculously, of something you’ve heard him say a hundred times.Lucille, give me strength!---Imagine: Negan getting his ass saved from walkers by the reader, a small girl he's hardly looked twice.





	Lucille, Give Me Strength!

”That was a big fuckin’ hoard,” Negan says, leaning his bat up against a tree as he bends down to fix his boot. “I mean, god _damn_. I swear, Rick the Prick has been taking up so much of my time I forget our biggest problem’s supposed to be dead men walking.”

Simon gives an ugly laugh.

“Rick _is_ a dead man walking. And hey, you oughta tell Eugene to double the fuck down on the bullet making. I’ve only got three left—we’re lucky we cleared them when we did.”

“What, you think Lucille ‘n’ me couldn’t take a few undead fuckers out if we had to?”

“That was more than a few,” Simon mutters, lighting a cigarette.

You could really go for one too, but you’d never ask Negan’s top dog; he’d probably just make some obnoxious joke about points. The two of them have barely seemed to notice your presence all day, despite you having taken out a solid twenty walkers all on your own. You really _did_ run out of bullets, too, but it’s not exactly Eugene’s fault. There’s plenty of ammo back at The Sanctuary, but none of you expected to run into a hoard like that.

“Hey, darlin’,” Negan says, as if he read your mind. “Wanna do me a favor and run my babygirl here back to the truck?” He picks up his beloved bat, brandishing her at you. “Dwighty Boy should be waitin’, so tell him we’ll head back in ten minutes. Simon and I are gonna hang back a sec and talk a couple things over.”

“Uh… sure,” you say, though you don’t exactly want to be responsible for his prized possession. “Got it.”

“Great!” He hands her over, but before you can turn away, he thwacks a hand down on your shoulder and looks you in the eye. He’s a big enough guy anyway, but he looks even more enormous, and even more terrifying, staring down at you like this. “You take care of her, you understand me?”

His voice is low and serious, his eyes absolutely piercing.

You nod dumbly up at him, and he quirks an eyebrow.

“What? Walker got your tongue?”

“No, shit, sorry,” you say, shaking yourself out of it. “Yeah, I’ll take care of her. No worries, Negan.”

“I know you will,” he laughs, clapping you on the shoulder again. He spins you around and gives you a playful shove in the direction of the truck. “You better! Now go on, hop to it.” 

You do as ordered, hurrying off into the woods, making sure to keep a solid grip on his ‘baby.’

You’ve only been walking for a few minutes when you hear a far-off gunshot.

You automatically sling Lucille over your shoulder, whipping around to see if you’re going to have to defend yourself. You don’t see anyone, and quickly realize it came from somewhere behind you.

Shit. Could that have been Simon? But he only had three bullets. Why would he waste one unless…?

There’s another gunshot, and your walkie talkie crackles to life.

“Dwight!” Negan’s voice comes across angry and garbled. “Get your skinny ass over here now! Bring the crossbow and the girl and the goddamn truck!”

“Where are you?” Dwight asks. “What’s going on?”

“There’s no fucking street signs out here! Figure it out!”

“But-”

There’s another gunshot in the distance.

“Dwight! We are shit out of bullets and shit out of luck, so if you don’t get your ass- Fuck!”

The buzz from his end cuts off abruptly, and you freeze. You glance at the empty gun in your waistband. You glance at Lucille.

And, before you even fully register what you’re doing, you take off running back in Negan’s direction.

Even before you reach the clearing you left the men in, you can hear the angry hissing and growling of walkers.

Right. So. Maybe you _didn’t_ clear the whole hoard. Awesome.

You slow way down as you approach, peeking in between the trees.

There’s a huge walker pinning Simon to the ground, and it looks like he’s working hard to drive his thumbs through its eye sockets. Negan is off to the left, cursing up a storm as three walkers work together to back him up against a tree. He’s got his knife in hand, but in the time it’ll take him to kill one, the other two will be on him.

Shit.

You look at his prized bat again, and think, ridiculously, of something you’ve heard him say a hundred times.

_Lucille, give me strength!_

And then you’re off and running.

Negan’s eyes go wide when he notices you, but you don’t have time to focus on that, or how he’ll probably yell at you for using his precious bat without his permission. You take a swing and, with surprising ease, bash the side of one walker’s head in.

Negan takes the opportunity to tackle one of the remaining two, jamming his knife straight through its skull. The third one lunges to loom over him, clicking its rotten teeth together. You wind up again and swing, smashing its head like a pumpkin. For the first time, you understand the thrill Negan gets from bashing brains with this thing.

As the walker collapses to the ground, you stare down at Negan, chest heaving. You wipe its blood from your face with a sleeve.

He stares back up at you, looking a little bewildered. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and neither does Simon, who’s won his own fight and is watching you from across the clearing.

“Look,” you huff, when you can’t take the silence anymore. Even from the ground, Negan is intimidating. “I know you told me to be careful with the bat, but I heard you over the walkie talkie, and-”

He looks even more confused, and maybe a little amused, too, as he says, “You think I’m gonna yell at you for saving my life?”

You shrug.

“You really like the bat.”

At that, he reaches up, and you reluctantly pass her over.

“I also really like badass ladies. Where the hell’d you learn to swing like that? I mean, shit, you almost took its head clean off.”

“Uh… I used to play softball.”

It’s true, but it makes him chortle.

“Goddamn, I would _not_ have wanted to be on the other team, then! But lucky me, I got you on _my_ team.”

He winks as he gets back to his feet, and you really don’t know what to say.

You’re glad he’s not mad, but it’s honestly a little annoying that it took you literally saving his life to notice how good you were on today’s run.

“Don’t act so surprised.” You normally wouldn’t be so ballsy around the guy, but you _did_ just save his life. “Those were walkers twenty-one and twenty-two today.”

“Is that right? Huh! Simon, how many walkers you kill today?”

“Dunno,” Simon says. There’s a bitter look on his face, and he’s lit another cigarette. “Ten, twelve?”

“Damn, how come I didn’t realize what a badass I had right under my nose?” Negan demands. “Maybe it’s cause you’re so short.”  

He smirks to himself, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Hilarious.”

“I like to think so. Now, the hell’s your name again?”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” he says, setting Lucille on his shoulder. “Not often I have to say it, but thanks for savin’ my ass. Remind me to tell Fat Joey to write in some extra points for you later.”

Ha! Fuck Simon, you can buy your own cigs now.

“Thank you, Negan,” you say, much less annoyed now. He’s a little crazy, sure, but at the end of the day he can be a fair guy.

“We should head back, find Dwight’s dumb ass,” he says, nudging you so you’ll walk back into the trees with him. Simon follows behind, not in any hurry. “You know,” Negan adds, leaning down as you walk. “I can think of something even better than points, if you want.”

You give him a cautious side-eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well. I never noticed what a badass you are, and I never noticed how cute you are either. And hell, maybe I just liked watching you bash brains with my girl here, but hot damn, something about you got me goin’ just now.”

You can see where he’s heading with this, but you can’t quite believe it.

All you can manage to say is, “Oh?”

“Hell yeah, darlin’. In fact, call me rash, but I was wonderin’ how you’d feel about becoming my wife.”

“Uh…” You’re not sure exactly how to refuse an offer like that from a guy like him. “Look, that’s really sweet and all, but…”

He doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, he laughs. 

“Shootin’ me down? What, you got something against good clothes, good food, and good sex? That’s just about everything you could need in life, apocalypse or not.”

It’s honestly… not a bad offer. Negan is handsome, powerful, and, admittedly, charming. Even if he _is_ a total asshole about it. And it’s been a long time since you’ve had good clothes, food, and _especially_ sex.

Still…

“But it _is_ the apocalypse,” you say, glancing uncomfortably back at Simon. Thankfully, he’s hanging even further back now. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve seen how you treat your wives.”

“The hell you mean?” Negan asks, brow furrowing. “I’m a perfect gentleman to every last one of ‘em.”

“You treat them like dainty little dolls, Negan. You dress them up and sit them down and they longue around that little room all day. It seems boring. I _like_ this. Doing runs, killing walkers and shit.”

“Huh,” he says. “Well, I gotta respect a lady’s decision. But how ‘bout this? You start comin’ on missions with _me_. I dunno who scheduled us together today, or why the hell they didn’t do it earlier, but it worked out pretty goddamn well. You’re more useful than D.” He leans in closer, lowers his voice. “Hell, or even Simon.”

Now … _there’s_ a good offer. You love the rush of getting out and fighting. Of feeling like you’re _doing_ something as the world crumbles around you. And there’s something about a sincere compliment from your leader that’s pretty nice too.

“That actually sounds… really good,” you admit. Negan _does_ go on the best missions, and maybe you can even work your way up to a lieutenant one day. You’re sure you could convince him to make more civil choices than Dwight, Simon, and Gavin. “You mean it?”

“Sure,” he says, as you near the edge of the woods. “Hell, maybe if you get to spend a little more time with me, my first offer will even seem a little more appealing.”

He laughs, and so do you, but honestly…

As you take in the sight of him, tall and strong and handsome, it doesn’t seem _entirely_ impossible.

And, from the satisfied look on his face, you think he knows it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to writing for this fandom so I hope you enjoyed! Check me out on tumblr at [lucilleshusband](https://lucilleshusband.tumblr.com/), and even drop me a prompt there if you feel like it!
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me writing! <3


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